


Bedside Notes

by StarryNox



Series: Chrobin Week 2017 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, implied cheating ? sort of??, in their defense they were married in another life, this is heavily based on an au i made with my friend that we call the not married au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12443508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNox/pseuds/StarryNox
Summary: “Help me read this?” He’s reminded of the early days, when she’d come to him with her brow furrowed and her fingertip placed firmly in the middle of the page so she wouldn’t have to hunt down the unfamiliar word now that she has someone to define it for her. His smile is nothing but indulgent as he takes the slip of parchment from between her fingers, holding the letter he knows by heart in one hand and clasping her hand with his other.Day 7: Vows





	Bedside Notes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't typically do author's notes these days, but I felt like it was necessary to give some background information on the Not Married AU, as told by me and my friend Cass. The first half of the game proceeds as in canon, with Chrom and Robin falling in love and Chrom proposing to Robin once the war against Plegia ends. However, the nobility in Ylisse are very much opposed to their union, and they force Chrom's hand in such a way that he marries a Ylissean noblewoman, leaving him to break the news to Robin, who then questions whether or not he ever really loved her in the first place. Their relationship remains cordial but strained, as Robin more or less avoids Chrom like the plague when she doesn't have to meet with him for work-related purposes. 
> 
> Fast forward to Chapter 13, and Lucina appears in all her brown glory, and the two of them learn that, in the first timeline, they married, and all the feelings they tried really hard to repress come crashing back into the forefront.

“I love you,” the note said, written in messy script that Robin knew could only belong to one person in the entirety of the Shepherds. It was handwriting she knew well, after years of seeing it on nearly every document that passed through her hands and in letters that she kept crumpled and unopened in the bottom of a box holding only her most precious belongings—mementos of the life she’d built for herself in Ylisse. “I love you, and I always will.” 

Such simple words, but they tore at her heartstrings, nudging forward memories to which she’d convinced herself she was attaching meanings that weren’t there. Stolen, wistful glances, the catching of hands before they could reach her, words left unsaid. Everything she’d spent the past few months trying to push back into the recesses of her mind. 

They had a daughter. She choked on the thought, the hand with the Mark of Grima clapping over her mouth as she muffled a sob. They had a daughter, with Chrom’s hair and her brown skin, a cruel reminder of what might have been. No, what could have been. 

She crushed the note in the fists of her hands before guilt won out, and she carefully smoothed the note back out before pressing it between the pages of one of her tactical books.

Later, Lucina would come to her tent with apologies that she would wave off with a faked smile, and she would hold her daughter in her arms trying desperately not to think of what her presence might bring.

 

Months pass, and she receives more letters, each of them carefully designed to make her smile just as much as they make her want to cry. She begins to let herself believe the signs, now that Ylisse was an ocean away and Chrom’s gestures more open, more frequent. She allows him to wrap an arm around her as they listen to Lucina regale them with memories of her childhood, to squeeze her hand when he’s in need of a moment of reassurance. She lets him see—if only due to accident—that she kept each and every one of his letters, though her cheeks burn as she picked them up from where they spilled upon the ground. It only inspired him to write more. 

“You know we can’t,” she tells him one day, her fingers tugging over the petals of the flowers he has brought her, and he smiles in a way that makes her want to take back her words and throw all caution into the wind. 

“I know.” It isn’t any less heartbreaking to hear her words confirmed. “I’m sorry.” And she forgives him, because how can she not? “It’s selfish of me, isn’t it?” 

“I’m selfish, too.” The Shepherds, mercifully, keep their thoughts to themselves, and Robin wonders if it’s because they, too, know that the feelings they’d been forced to push aside never faded. 

She’s still caught by surprise, though, when she finds a much longer note than usual tucked halfway under her pillow, the ring he once gave her folded within. The weight is heavy and unfamiliar in the palm of her hands as she skims over his words, and she hasn’t even made it halfway through before she’s out seeking him. 

 

He’s just made it back to his own tent when she bursts in, her hair only half-up and her coat hastily thrown over her shoulders. She’s clutching his note and his ring to her chest, and he doesn’t even have a chance to greet her before she’s shoving his note back into his hands. 

“Help me read this?” He’s reminded of the early days, when she’d come to him with her brow furrowed and her fingertip placed firmly in the middle of the page so she wouldn’t have to hunt down the unfamiliar word now that she has someone to define it for her. His smile is nothing but indulgent as he takes the slip of parchment from between her fingers, holding the letter he knows by heart in one hand and clasping her hand with his other. 

“Never have I met a better friend or a better woman. You came into my life under unexpected circumstances, but now I can’t help but think that it was fate which brought us together. You are the wind at my back and the sword at my side, but even that doesn’t describe just how much you mean to me. I can’t imagine a life without you in it, and I would happily spend the rest of mine at your side, if you let me. I will do all I can to ensure your future is a happy one, and that you want for nothing. You will always have my heart, my faith, and my support in all that you do. I promise to treasure you and love you for the rest of my days, no matter what life may throw our way, and I swear, above all, to be and become the man you would willingly choose to have at your side.” Her grip on his hand has only tightened as he speaks, and he offers her a crooked grin. “Sounds like you have quite the admirer.” She snorts, her forehead coming to rest above his heart, and he embraces her, basking in the way she seems to fit just right in his arms. 

“It seems I do,” she murmurs, her words muffled by the fabric of his tunic, and his heart lurches. It is rare that she acknowledges his feelings—not that he can blame her in the slightest. After all, he’s always been so unfair, wanting so desperately what he cannot have. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she pulls away, her eyes glassy as she smiles and thanks him before slipping out of his tent before rumors can begin to start. 

He wakes the next morning to a parchment full of Plegian script placed carefully at his bedside. His Plegian is rusty, to say the least, and limited to what may be useful in political affairs—from an intellectual standpoint, he hasn’t the faintest idea about what’s written upon the page. Even so, he can feel the lovesick grin tugging at his lips as he traces his thumb over her handwriting and tucks the note into his breast pocket. Perhaps, when they have a quiet moment, she will read her vows to him, too.


End file.
